Ribbon
by yourmainsqueeze
Summary: Ribbons are meaningful to more than just little girls.


A/N: I wrote this for a friend awhile back. I've never posted it before because I gave it to her and forgot about it. Since I probably won't be able to update for awhile, I thought this would be better then nothing. I contacted her and she kindly agreed to post this for me. Hope you enjoy.

The Friend: When I asked for a Gaara/Sakura story the prompt I gave was the red string of destiny. I also asked for fluff. I hope u guys like it as much as I did. If u do, review and let her know so she'll write more Gaara stories for me!

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He is tired and the typical hospital smell bothers him more than usual. He is no stranger to the smell of death, but he cannot stomach the stench of hospitals. Death lingers so forcibly amongst the living in these cramped hallways.

He would never be in the building at this hour if it were not for the presence of a certain medic. He is ridiculously past due on hearing about the general status of his hospital and its inhabitants. He will find the medic and acquire his report.

At least, that is his excuse. In reality he trusts the girl explicitly and knows she has far more skill than necessary to run his hospital. Plus, since the report has waited so long, it really wouldn't hurt to hear it in the morning.

But in this dark time of constant threat and warfare, Gaara finds he likes the calming presence of the girl. She rejuvenates him and keeps him attuned to what really matters. Her determination gives him strength; something he needs quite desperately.

It doesn't take him long to search out her notable store of chakra. It is lower than normal but, deep into the night after a long day of healing, that hardly seems relevant.

Because it is in his nature, he approaches the the entrance to the room wherein lies his query with deadly silence. His chakra has been masked the whole voyage, out of both practicality and necessity.

As he takes in the scene, he is thankful that his entrance has remained unnoticed.

Sakura is seated beside a small girl on one of the hospital beds. The girl is heavily bandaged and fiddles her fingers restlessly as Sakura hums. The medic pauses in her song to ask the child if she would like the usual. The child nods enthusiastically before straightening her back.

Carefully, Sakura threads her hands through the child's hair before deftly parting it with a comb. She divides the hair into three evenly proportioned chunks before she begins twisting them together. She moves slowly, soothingly though it is clear that her movements are practiced and could be executed far quicker.

Gaara watches, mesmerized, as she extracts a thin slip of red ribbon from her pocket. She ties it around the bottom of the braid and gently pats the girl on the back. She murmurs that she is finished and the girl begins to scoot beneath her covers.

It is then that Gaara notes the child is missing one of her legs. He feels his features shift towards something dark and allows a bit of his presence to escape.

Because she has been here for months, and because he has let her become alarmingly close, he isn't surprised when she notices him. What does surprise him is the way she smiles at his appearance.

"Kazekage-sama, I'm pleased to see you has returned safely from your trip."

She slips from the bed with a fluid grace that makes his breath hitch. It takes him longer than necessary to react to her presence at his side. She makes up for his lapses in coherence with her own brand of haste.

"Perhaps we can walk and talk? I still have much to do and I'm sure you do as well."

He nods and looks away. She misinterprets his glance and looks forlorn.

"She has been here two weeks. She lost everything in the recent attack on her home. She is just one of the thousands of refugees the war has produced."

"Her leg?"

"She was just a civilian bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was with her parents and younger brothers."

A pause because she is hurt and needs to hide it. He knows what is coming but he won't interrupt her.

"They didn't make it."

He meets her emerald gaze and curses himself for lacking the ability to comfort another human being. He is gathering the courage to attempt it when her brisk steps take her away and her now professional voice halts the need.

"You have been so long that I had the time to write up all the reports. I was going to send them to you. I'm glad you returned before I did."

"Thank you, Sakura."

"Of course, Kazekage-sama. Give me a minute."

She enters a dim room as he hovers at the threshold. There is another small girl. Again, a comb and a ribbon are produced. Again, Sakura coos like a concerned mother over her broken child.

He watches silently and commits the scene to memory.

Despite all that she has endured in the course of this never ending war, Sakura has remained her glowing, compassoniate self. When he requested medical aid for his village the Hokage had responded that she could only spare one shinobi. However, Leaf's leader had guarnteed the person's efficancy.

Gaara had been skeptical at the sight of her, but now he could not be more thankful.

Sakura cares for his people like they are her own. She takes risks for them and makes sacrifices for them. Beyond her flawless medical aid, she provides a special service. She instills hope in the people of Suna and, more impressivly, in their leader.

He watches her bind the small child's hair with another slim red ribbon. Her hands are gentle but she ties the ribbon tightly to ensure it stays. After a few shared whispers with the child she rejoins him in the hallway.

"How often do you play hairdresser?"

She smiles at his question and he wishes there were no such things as social constraints, norms, or expectations. More than anything he wants to feel the curve of her cheek lifted in her exuberant expression, but he knows it would be out of line to reach for her.

"About once a week. It takes me awhile to gather so many ribbons."

"How many do you need a week?"

"Only around twelve, but the girls can get picky. I have to make sure everyone gets the same color each week to avoid arguments and such."

"I see. This is all quite serious then."

She laughs at his tone just like he hoped she would and then sighs in exasperation.

"I've even made up a rotaing schedule so nobody can complain about always being last. These girls can get fiesty if they feel they're being left out. It can get rather ridiculous."

A little caught up in the high of havng such a normal, mundane conversation with her, he lets himself slip.

"It is understandable, though. I would most certainly fight for your ribbons and your time."

Their eyes meet as the implications of his statment take hold. They are adults and they are each aware of the tension that has been building between them. However, they are both painfully scarred from past experiences with what they thought to be love.

Still hurt from events that should be forgotten, they both hover in a place of hesitance. Though he wants to be something more with Sakura, he doesn't want to harm their friendship. He feels infinitly stupid for his mistake and is about to awkwardly make his retreat when she interrupts him.

Her smile is small and shy as she steps towards him; her pale hand searching her pocket.

"Well, Kazekage, you happen to be in luck tonight. I have with me one last ribbon."

She is wonderfully close as she dips her fingers through his hair. He wants to be brave like her, so he rests a hand lightly atop her hip.

"What a dilemma. Your hair seems a bit short for braiding."

The last statment, whispered against him lips, makes him shiver from head to toe.

He meets her move for move because he believes in give and take.

She trails a finger across his hairline behind his ear. He flutters his fingers across her collarbone.

She grasps his shoulders. He runs heavy hands up and down her sides.

She kisses him. He kisses right back.

He is in bliss and can barely comprehend when she pulls away from him. He lets her go and trails his arms down her figure as she moves farther away. He is surprised when she stops the retreat of his left arm.

Carefully, she ties the thin bit of fabric around his wrist. She plays with his hand as she whispers to him.

"Such haste, Kazekage-sama. You nearly neglected your ribbon."

Her cheeks are flushed. He feels more at ease than he has in a lifetime.

"I'll guard it with my life."

She backs away completely, laughing as she does.

"Don't be silly. If a little girl stops you and demands it, you should probably just hand it over."

"I'm serious."

He waits for her to sober up and listen before he continues.

"I've seen the love you put into these ribbons and what the people who receive them mean to you. Sakura, truly, I will cherish this."

He is proud at how resolute he manages to keep his voice and happy at the light of understanding in her eyes.

Whether she wanted it or not, when she gave him the ribbon, she bound them irrevobacly. They can continue down this path at the same casual pace, but he will never allow her to falter from it. She has attached her red ribbon to him, a move that is lasting and eternal.


End file.
